


I Saw You in My Deams Again; It Felt So Real

by thieves



Series: All That I've Got to Be Thankful For [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Just a little angst, M/M, Violence, a creature dies at one point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8877430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thieves/pseuds/thieves
Summary: Newt and Credence have different approaches to protecting themselves and those around them from danger. Canon divergent AU in which Credence moves to London with Newt.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi, first fantastic beasts fic, so i don't know if i handled the characters right. and yeah i believe that credence is a very strong man, capable of overcoming (or trying to, at least) whatever life throws at him and i tried to portray just that because most fics contain a broken and weak credence WHICH HE IS I AGREE WITH THAT but time heals all wounds. this is set about a year after the movie

Credence has been around for long enough to expect anything from his current surrounding environment, so he’s not surprised when Newt throws his head back and lets out a joyful laugh, he just flinches a bit at the sudden sound. Newt, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice as he starts going off about a letter he’d just received through no-maj post.

Credence tries for a supportive smile (Newt always told him a smile suited him) and ends up grimacing, probably, so he just takes a cautious sip of his breakfast tea. Newt is almost a hundred per cent oblivious to the outside world, talking mostly to himself about how a wizard from Ireland has invited him to come along to Greece, where a manticore has been sighted. Credence has absolutely no idea what a manticore is, but he guesses it’s a rare creature.

“Hell, Credence,” Newt says. He then jumps from his chair and runs out of the kitchen.

Credence doesn’t know if he’s supposed to follow, so he just sits by the small kitchen table, nursing his tea.

“Bloody hell,” comes Newt’s voice, and Newt himself a few seconds later. He’s now holding a quill, some parchment and a bottle of ink. There’s also a smudge of ink on his cheek, which Credence doesn’t point out. “Can you believe this? I thought I’d never see the day,” Newt continues, then slumps back into his chair. Credence steals a quick glance, and catches Newt’s eyes without really wanting to. Newt looks away first, but doesn’t stop smiling.

“Oh?” Credence asks after a short pause.

“Yes.” Newt takes a few rushed gulps of his tea and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Manticores are very rare,” he explains and falls silent again.

Credence looks up to down the last of his tea and almost chokes on it – the entire lower half of Newt’s face is now black with smudged ink. This time Credence’s half-smile is genuine.

“You have a little something…” Credence trails off and points at his own chin instead. Newt throws him an apologetic smile and summons a small mirror with a flick of his wand. Credence pretends not to look at him as Newt inspects his face in the mirror and chuckles. “Oh dear,” he mutters and goes to the sink to wash his face.

“Can I?” Credence asks after a moment. He’s not sure he can do it, but he really wants to try.

Newt turns off the tap and faces Credence. “Of course.”

Credence pulls out his wand – ten inches, holly, phoenix feather, - and points it at Newt. His hand is shaking.

“You can do this,” Newt encourages.

Credence pretends not to notice the way Newt clasps his hands and closes his eyes in anticipation or maybe even fear.

“ _Tergeo,_ ” Credence says in a shaky voice and, to his surprise and delight, the ink vanishes.

Newt immediately opens his eyes. “Well?”

“It’s gone,” Credence says.

Newt grins broadly and doesn’t even check in the mirror for himself. “That’s brilliant. You’re a very talented wizard.”

Credence just shrugs and pockets his wand. His shoulders hunch and he busies his hands by wrapping them around his mug. He’s still not used to being called a wizard. Mary Lou’s voice echoes in his head whenever he hears the word and his heartbeat picks up in fright, but he never shows it to Newt. Newt doesn’t need to worry about his past.

Newt thanks him with a smile and picks up his quill to write a response to the letter he’s gotten.

+

Newt doesn’t want to take Credence with him to Greece. It’s too dangerous and challenging or whatever. Credence has to really work his ass off to convince him otherwise.

“Are you sure?” he asks for the millionth time, probably.

“I don’t want to you to get hurt,” Newt replies, also for the millionth time.

“I won’t get hurt.”

Newt sighs and throws the last of the slab of raw meat to a hippogriff. “But what if you do? I’m responsible for your well-being.”

“No, you’re not. I’m not a kid,” Credence argues. He finds himself expressing his opinion and wants more and more these days. Maybe it’s just the fact that he’s grown to feel comfortable around Newt.

“Still,” Newt says after a pause and wipes his hands on his pants.

He won’t look Credence in the eye, so Credence stares more pointedly. Newt either doesn’t notice or doesn’t want to notice. He brushes past Credence and goes to checking in on his other creatures. Credence crosses his hands over his chest and straightens his back in an attempt to use his slightly taller frame to look more serious about the entire deal. Newt is still completely oblivious, talking quietly to his creatures.

Credence stalks over to Newt. “Newt,” he says. “I’m a powerful,” he takes a deep breath, “a powerful wizard. You said so yourself.”

“I know, I know,” Newt finally looks him in the eye, even if momentarily. “It’s not because I think you’re not capable enough, please don’t think that.”

“What, then?”

Newt shoves his hands in his pockets and fixes his eyes on the ground between the two. They’re standing at an arm’s reach, which is a little too close to Credence’s liking, but he’s got a point to prove and he’s feeling stubborn.

“I can’t quite explain right now,” Newt finally sighs out.

“Please?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Credence uncrosses his hands. “I’ll go pack a backpack,” he says, feeling the corners of his lips tugging a little.

Credence tries levitating a pair of neatly folded pants into his backpack later that night. He points his wand, gripped tight, and whispers the incantation. Nothing. He repeats it louder, and still nothing happens. He gives up after a few tries, too angry with himself to do any spell at all. Of course, Newt doesn’t find out about this. Credence doesn’t want Newt to realize how useless he actually is.

+

Newt grips Credence by the bicep and apparates them straight to France. They take a train and find themselves in Greece two days later. Credence is curious enough to brush his hair away from his eyes – it currently is a few inches away from reaching his shoulders – every so often so his eye could catch every detail. Once or twice, he catches Newt watching him watch the world around him, and he casts his eyes downwards immediately. Then, Newt points out an interesting building or a person, dressed in eccentric clothes, so Credence looks briefly and nods his head, as if to say, “Yeah, that’s very pretty”.

They meet the wizard who invited Newt to the trip a little outside of Athens. His name is Norvel Twonk and Credence is a little intimidated by his deep, booming voice. The man himself isn’t very tall, but he’s got broad shoulders, even broader than Credence’s, and his presence is quite noticeable, even if he’s not trying to purposefully draw attention to himself.

The three of them meet at a no-maj restaurant. Credence asks Newt to order for him, and the waiter brings him his dish – a Greek salad, much to Newt’s amusement – and he finishes all of it. He even eats the olives, probably the only food he truly dislikes. Newt has something Credence couldn’t pronounce even if he wanted to, and Mr. Twonk orders to take up his quarter of the table top. He also orders a bottle of wine for the table, which Credence declines, and Newt barely presses to his lips once or twice. The rest goes straight to Mr. Twonk’s glass. Mr. Twonk is at least thirty years older than Credence, and at least twenty-eight than Newt, so naturally, he has a lot of knowledge about life and magical creatures and whatnot. The less wine is left in the bottle, the louder Mr. Twonk tells his stories. Credence is incredibly bored, but he pretends to listen intently. Newt seems to be truly enjoying every word Mr. Twonk slurs.

The sun finally sets, and Newt asks for the check.

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Twonk,” he says as he takes out a handful of Greek no-maj coins from his pocket. Courtesy of the niffler, Credence assumes. The three of them then check themselves into a hotel for the night. For the first time in almost a year Credence sleeps in a different room from Newt. He mostly tosses and turns in bed until sunrise, but that’s nothing new.

The next morning Credence’s eyes are puffy, and he can’t stop yawning, so Newt brings him a strong black tea from a shop across the street. He sits on the ground with his knees pulled up, sipping his tea as Newt and Mr. Twonk figure out the rest of the expedition in agonizingly small detail. He’s about to fall asleep again when Newt turns to him and asks, “Did you bring your boots?”

“Yeah,” Credence hums, and falls into absently listening to the two men discuss their plan of action.

After what seems was a good few hours, Newt appears in front of Credence, offering him a hand, he takes it and is swiftly pulled up to his feet.

“All set?”

“Yeah,” Credence replies.

Fifteen minutes later he finds himself with Mr. Twonks hand on one shoulder, and Newt’s on the other. They apparate from an alleyway next to the hotel to Foloi oak forest in seconds. Credence loves the convenience of apparition.

Mr. Twonk sets up a tent in a deep part of the forest, where it’s dark even during the day. Newt and Credence prepare all tools needed for thoroughly inspecting such a creature as a manticore, and all the protective gear, which mostly consists of various spells and charms. Newt takes care of the latter, and Credence just watches as Newt walks him through every charm he casts.

+

They finally stumble into a manticore three days into their stay in the forest. They’re all wandering through the densely packed trees, silencing charms on their feet, when it appears. Credence’s heartbeat jumps instantly, the Obscurus inside him starting to trash viciously. He bites into his fist to ground himself. The manticore stares at them with its human-like eyes. Its tail with a massive stinger sways slowly from side to side. Credence swears neither of the three breathe those ten or so seconds, and then the manticore jumps. Newt swears like Credence’s never heard him swear before, and tries to land a spell at the beast. It jumps off and crashes into a nearby tree. Credence starts taking frantic backwards steps, teeth still on his fist. He thinks he can taste blood now. Mr. Twonk also fires a few spells at the manticore, all with no effect. The beast roars inhumanly loud, and it’s shark-like teeth show. Credence feels like he’s about to throw up, and his vision is blurring more and more with every choking breath he takes. His Obscurus is tearing him apart, but he’s somehow managing to control it. Newt fires a curse, and the manticore shakes it off before launching itself at the nearest person, which happens to be Mr. Twonk. Newt is shooting spells left and right, and Mr. Twonk has resorted to physical violence. Nothing is affecting the manticore, and that’s when Credence lets go of his self-control. His vision becomes blindingly white, and the very next thing he remembers is seeing about half a dozen of trees fallen down, some with black burn marks, the beast ashen and dead, and Mr. Twonk staring at him like he’s the antichrist.

“Fuck,” Credence breathes out and lets his body go completely limp as he slides down against a thick tree trunk. He thinks about the beating he is not going to get for cursing. “Fuck.”

“It’s…” Newt starts and leans against a tree as well. “It’s quite alright, Credence. We’re fine.”

A tense silence surrounds after that, with the only thing hearable being their rapid breathing and the occasional whispered cuss from Mr. Twonk. He’s also the first one to break it. “What in the bloody hell was that?” he asks and props his upper body on his elbows.

Credence looks at Newt, and Newt looks at Credence. Both of their eyes are equally filled with fright and uncertainness. Credence doesn’t dare open his mouth, so he just closes his eyes and concentrates on his breathing.

“I don’t know if I can,” Newt then says. Credence counts the breaths he takes and tries not to choke on air.

“Credence?”

Credence doesn’t respond.

“I’d rather explain this over a glass of wine,” Newt says.

Mr. Twonk just nods. They stay in their positions on the ground for quite some time. Newt then stands, and apparates them back to the tent. Credence promptly throws up as soon as the pull of apparition stops. Newt takes up awkwardly patting his shoulder and muttering comforting bullshit. Credence appreciates it, but he’d rather not let Newt see how actually weak he is.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“We’d all probably be dead if it weren’t for you,” Newt answers and offers Credence a glass of water, transfigured from a rock. Credence gulps it all down as Newt tells him how much of a stupid idea it was to go see a manticore with a sad expression in his eyes.

“At least now we know,” Credence offers as some sort of comfort.

“This was foolish. I’m foolish,” Newt shakes his head. “Please do talk me out of these kind of trips next time.”

Credence doesn’t know what to say, so he apologizes again. Newt asks him what for, and Credence wants to tell him, but he doesn’t. Newt doesn’t like it when he talks lowly of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second part will be up in a weeks time, hope you liked the first one!! comments are very very appreciated and craved  
> this is unbeated and english isnt my native, so please do point out any mistakes you find!!


	2. Chapter 2

They stay in London for quite a bit after the manticore incident. Newt spends three out of seven days in the ministry of magic, continues writing his book, teaches Credence magic and takes care of his creatures. Credence reads books, helps with the beasts, brews Newt tea and wanders around London when he feels like it. They’re both busy with what they do, so the only time they truly spend together is at night, when Credence sleeps in Newt’s-now-his bed, and Newt sleeps on the other side of the room on a smaller, less comfortable bed. Credence puts up a fight every once in a while, requesting Newt to sleep in his old bed but Newt is just as stubborn as Credence, so he doesn’t listen. Credence feels even worse for taking up the comfier bed on nights where he can’t sleep. He will then get out of bed as quietly as he can, kneel beside Newt’s bed and gently tap his shoulder.

“Are you asleep? You should go to your bed, I’m gonna read for a bit, I think.”

“It’s your bed, Credence,” Newt will say, and that will be the end of it.

It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, Credence curls up on the couch in the living room in hopes that Newt will change his mind.

The morning after such a night, a silent but highly annoying and repetitive rapping sound coming from heaven knows where awakens Credence. He stretches his body, gone stiff and sore, and rubs at his eyes. The rapping starts up again. Credence goes completely still, and pinpoints the source of the sound being the large window. Must be an owl.

He rises from the couch and opens the curtains. Sure enough a dark brown owl is pacing around the little balcony. It seems annoyed, so Credence hurries to open the window to let it in.

“Sorry, I was asleep,” he offers as an explanation. The owl pays him no mind, just flies in and perches on the backrest of one of the chairs in the kitchen. Credence isn’t sure whether the owl likes him, so he decides to wake Newt. The owl came for him, after all.

Newt is sleeping with the pillow on top of his head and the sheets slipped down to the middle of his back. His shoulders are pale and freckled, which Credence finds very beautiful. The only thing that marks his own skin is a variety of scars. That Credence doesn’t find beautiful at all.

“Newt?” Credence tries softly. Newt doesn’t move a muscle, so Credence carefully pokes Newt’s shoulder. Newt groans and tries to shrug away any attempt at being woken up.

“An owl came for you,” Credence says. This time Newt gets his head out from under the pillow, rolls over and pulls the sheets up to his chin. “What does it say?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t like me, so I didn’t check.”

Newt makes a noncommittal sound and yawns. “Put the kettle on the stove, will you?”

+

The letter turns out to be an invite to pay a visit to Hogwarts. Newt decides to go, and he takes Credence with him. Credence spends that day walking around the school with Dumbledore while Newt deals with the problem between merpeople and plimpies. The two species apparently don’t get along well, and Newt had been instructed to relocate the plimpies that had somehow found home in the Great Lake.

They floo straight to the headmaster’s office. After a few minutes of pleasantries Newt goes straight to work, dropping Credence off at Dumbledore’s office. Dumbledore takes him for a walk around the massive castle and tells him all about it.

After discussing the school’s history, architecture and the entire school body, Dumbledore offers Credence to have dinner in the Great Hall, which Credence politely declines, so they go to Dumbledore’s office and talk some more. Dumbledore asks questions about New York, and Credence feels like he knows more about him than he lets on, hence his subtle avoidance of any possibly triggering question. Credence refuses to believe it’s a coincidence.

They’re talking about weather differences between London and New York when Newt comes in with his shoes in hand and his hair curlier than ever.

“Newt,” Dumbledore acknowledges his presence with a nod, “sit down.”

“Thank you,” Newt says and drops into a chair next to Credence.

“How did it go?”

“Quite well,” Newt says and bends down to put on his shoes. “I think I caught them all. The giant squid helped a lot.”

“Wonderful. I’d invited Mr Barebone for dinner, but he decided against. Maybe he’d feel more comfortable if you both went?”

 “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Newt looks at Credence, and he just shrugs, which usually means no, so Newt politely declines, and they floo back home with a few hundred of plimpies in Newt’s suitcase.

+

Newt is at the ministry doing the usual, and Credence is alone at home. He hangs out in the suit case for a little, gives the niffler a shiny candy wrapper to play with, and goes back up into the apartment to make himself some tea. The tea he makes is never as good as Newt’s, but he’s getting better with each mug he makes. The kettle starts whistling so Credence puts his off the heat and fills a mug. He’s stirring the sugar when a slamming sound echoes throughout the entire apartment and Credence inhales sharply drops the mug onto the tiled floor.

“Credence?”

Newt’s come back and Credence is a dead man walking. He quickly reaches for his wand and cleans up the mess to his best ability, then wipes up the leftover spilled tea with his sock. He manages to lean against the counter in a casual manner just in time before Newt rushes into the kitchen.

“Hi, Newt.”

“Did I scare you? I’m sorry.”

Credence shakes his head a bit and pockets his hands. “It’s okay, you didn’t.”

Newt looks skeptical. Slowly, he walks over to Credence and presses the back of the hand to his neck. Credence’s heartbeat is fast and strong. It always becomes that way when he gets scared, and right now he is exactly that.

“I’m sorry, the door handle must have slipped out of my hand,” Newt says.

“I’m sorry I lied.”

“It’s alright. Are you okay?”

Credence nods. “Your hand is cold.”

Newt flushes a little bit and drops his hand. Acting out of impulse and a bit out of suppressed craving of physical touch, Credence takes Newt’s hand midair and sandwiches it between his own. He’s trying not to move his hands much in fear that Newt will feel the scars on his palms, so he settles with drawing small circles with his thumb.

There’s slight tension coming off of Newt. His tense posture, his set jaw, his eyes looking at nothing like he’s thinking intently.

“You’re upset about something,” Credence states.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Newt says just a little bit too quickly, like he’s been expecting such a question.

“Is it something I did?”

“No, no.”

Newt’s hand clenches into a fist, so Credence tries letting it go, assuming that’s what Newt wants him to do.

“A group of wizards are using nifflers to rob muggle shops and such,” Newt says after a little pause.

Credence doesn’t really know what to say. That must be way worse news to Newt than it is to him. “That’s horrible,” he mutters.

“Absolutely awful. I have to do something about it.”

His mind is still blank. “Steal the nifflers?”

Newt snickers at first, but then gets serious. “That’s a brilliant idea, actually.”

“In theory, maybe. I didn’t actually mean that.”

Of course, Newt isn’t listening to him anymore. He shakes off his coat and throws it over a chair. “I’m going to steal the nifflers. Oh, can you imagine?” he sighs. “Seven nifflers in one suitcase. I have enough trouble with one as it is.”

+

Newt continues with his research on the niffler-abusing thieves, but mostly without Credence. Newt had sat him down and explained the reasons behind not wanting to take him along. Credence does understand, but he’s bitter about it on the inside. Sure, he’d lost control that time, but if he hadn’t, he’d be dead. It’s not like he harmed a peaceful animal. After only taking from Newt and not having much to give back except a hand at caring for the creatures, the least he could’ve done was to kill the manticore that would’ve bitten Newt’s head off. Not dangerous, Credence’s ass.

They’re sitting on the grass in the suitcase, soaking in the sun. Credence’s hands get tired of supporting his upper body, so he lays down. Pickett jumps off Newt’s shoulder and starts tugging at random strands of Credence’s hair. He doesn’t mind.

“Pickett seems to like you more than he does me,” Newt says.

“You’re changing the subject.”

“And you’re pushing it.”

“I’m sorry,” Credence says almost immediately. Pickett is now on his chest, stomping around. It tickles a little. A herd of mooncalves are nibbling on grass about a few feet away. “I really am sorry, but why can’t I go?”

Newt laughs. “Were you always like this?”

“Stop changing the subject,” Credence groans.

“No, I’m genuinely curious.”

“Was I always like what?”

“So passively stubborn.”

Credence gently pushes Pickett away before he manages to climb onto his face. “I guess so.”

Newt rolls onto his side, facing Credence, and gives him a knowing look before rolling back to his initial position. They lay in silence, and Credence pushes himself on his elbows so he can see the mooncalves. Credence likes them a lot. They’re calm, they don’t moo that much, and they seem to like him as well.

His eyes then take in the cloud that slowly creeps up on the sun and covers it completely. The cloud doesn’t have a resemblance to anything, but it’s of a nice shape still.

Lastly, he looks at Newt. He’s laying with his arms behind his head and his legs crossed by the ankles, looking as content as Credence feels right now. And then Credence remembers.

“You did it again!”

“I didn’t do anything,” Newt replies calmly. His lips twitch in a smile.

“I want to go with you,” Credence says.

“Credence, don’t start.”

“You took Pickett to the last three or so trips, and you left me home. That’s unfair.”

“That’s because Pickett is too small to get himself into trouble.”

Credence snorts. “Right. Like you didn’t almost trade him.”

Newt takes a deep breath and opens his eyes, so Credence looks away. “Alright, fine,” he says after a moment. “You may as well tag along.”

+

They apparate about half a mile from where the nifflers are kept prisoners, careful not to set off any protection charms which will definitely be there. They appear in the middle of a field, with the barn only barely visible, its frame illuminated by the full moon. Newt leaves the suitcase home, but takes an expanding bag to temporarily put the nifflers into.

“Alright?” Newt asks after taking in the location.

“Yeah,” Credence responds, and they start making their way towards the barn through the high grass. Credence is walking in front of Newt, flicking his wand left and right and right, making the weeds lay flat and give them way. Newt is also flicking his wand left and right after himself, erasing any sign of two men crossing the field.

Pickett is hiding somewhere in Newt’s coat, having been taken along for its size and the ability to cooperate.

The three reach the barn in a shorter amount of time than Credence had anticipated. The amount of magic surrounding it is almost making Credence’s hair static.

He takes a few steps forward and hits an invisible wall. It gleams white where Credence touched it and becomes transparent in a matter of seconds again.

“Holy shit, what’s that?” Credence asks.

“An obstacle,” Newt mutters and instructs Credence to stand back as he himself takes a couple steps backward. Credence steps over behind Newt.

Newt then positions his wand and strikes a bright purple spell at the protection charm, saying an incantation Credence has never heard or read about before. It does not give in. Pickett jumps off Newt’s shoulder and starts carrying his little self towards Credence, stumbling and tripping over twigs and larger pebbles. Credence squats down and catches the little guy in his hand.

“Bugger,” Newt curses and lowers his wand, and tries a different spell. This one is a continuous stream of bright blue light. The invisible wall lights up and crackles, but doesn’t go any further than that. Newt gives up after a few moments and sighs, dropping his wand holding hand to his side.

He then sits on the ground and throws a pebble to the charm. Newt curses again, this time more foul.

“What now?” Credence asks.

“Let me think for a little while.”

Credence stands for a little bit, then decides to sit down beside Newt, who is still thinking intently with his brows scrunched. Pickett comes out of Credence’s sleeve and asks to be lifted to Newt’s shoulder. When there, he pats Newt’s cheek a couple of times before disappearing behind the collar of Newt’s coat.

Credence takes his wand out of his pocket, being careful to purposefully touch Newt with his elbow.

“ _Accio_ niffler,” he whispers. Nothing happens at first, but then a niffler flies out the ajar barn door, goes straight through the charm and lands in Credence’s lap.

“Oh, Credence!” Newt exclaims and ruffles Credence’s hair, laughing. Credence is smiling, too. He pulls out a coin and hands it to the niffler. He doesn’t take it at first, but grasps it with its little hands after sniffing it a bit.

“You brilliant, brilliant man!”

Credence breathes out a laugh at that. The way Newt is smiling ear to ear, now with his legs folded under him, and cooing at the little niffler, is plain adorable.

Credence casts the summoning charm five more times, each one bringing him an added niffler in his lap. In the end, he’s left with six nifflers on him, and Newt being a few inches away from being there as well. The way he’s laughing and petting the nifflers is ridiculous. Credence starts laughing himself.

“There’s six of you and I only have two hands,” Newt manages through tears of joy, still trying to pat every single one of them simultaneously.

Credence allows Newt to play with the nifflers for a few minutes more before opening his mouth. “We should probably get going.”

“You’re right.” Newt produces a small bag, charmed to have more room than it appears from the outside, from his pocket and starts gently laying the nifflers in it. Credence tries to be helpful by holding the bag wide open.

“It’s not ideal, but it’ll have to do. Soon you will all be in a better place,” talks Newt, apologizing to each and every niffler.

When every little animal is safe in the charmed bag, Newt becomes serious again. “Off we go before we get caught.”

They both stand from the ground, and start walking a little away from the barn to apparate back home when three wizards appear from thin air. Credence almost drops his wand, but Newt is quick to react. He stuns one of them before the other two tackle them to the ground. Credence’s cheek presses painfully to the dirt, and a heavy boot lands on his back, which cracks even more painfully and knocks the air out of his lungs.

“Who told you about this place?” screams one man into Credence’s ear. Newt is also on the ground with a man on top of him.

Credence struggles to free himself and only gets a heel pressed hard into his back and a roared, “Stay still.”

“There’s been a misunderstanding, sir-” Newt starts and is swiftly shut up by being rolled onto his back. Credence winces when the man swings his fist to Newt’s jaw. His head turns, and Credence watches him spit out blood. If the Obscurus was fairly in control before, it lunges itself at Credence with such force his head gets dizzy.

Newt starts talking again, and gets another blow to the cheek. Credence’s blood boils and he tries to get free again. This time the man holding him down kicks him in the side and stomps down on his back again.

“Bloody thieves, were trying to steal from us?” Newt’s captor yells.

“No, sir, please-” Newt slurs, and gets punched for the third time.

“Shut it, won’t ya? Be more like your mate here,” the man jabs a thumb in the general direction of Credence and laughs.

“Too scared, boy?” the other man also speaks up.

“Fuck off,” Credence manages. The Obscurus is practically ripping him apart, but Newt is looking at him with bloodshot, pleading eyes, and it takes Credence all his will not to turn and kill them, as much as he’d like to.

His answer earns him another fit of violence, mostly targeted at his ribcage. It hurts like hell, so he just grounds himself in whatever way he can, whether it be biting his lip until it bleeds, or just trying not to lose sight of Newt.

He feels something poke at his neck, presumably a wand.

“Hold up, Marcus,” Newt’s captor says. “We need information from them.”

Credence’s vision blurs, and when he manages to open his eyes again, he notices Pickett coming out of Newt’s coat pocket, dragging Newt’s wand with him.

In hopes of distracting both men, Credence starts trashing again and gets a bolt of electricity to the nape of his neck. He screams at the top of his lungs and his vision goes blindingly white at the pain.

He doesn’t see it, but he hears Newt stun the man on top of him, and the foot holding Credence back disappears. Credence immediately rolls on his back to catch some air.

Newt fires a few spells, disarms his opponent and stuns him as well. The stunned body falls on Credence’s feet, and he kicks it off with more violence than necessary.

“Credence, are you alright?” Newt asks and drops on his knees beside him.

“Yeah,” Credence croaks out, “you?”

“I’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go. Can you stand?”

“I think so.” Credence tries to push himself up on his elbows, and a stinging pain shoots through his left side. He hisses in pain, and Newt is immediately wrapping his arms around him – one under his knees and the other by his shoulders.

“It’s fine, I’ll manage,” Credence tries, but Newt is already picking him up and apparating them back home, after quickly obliviating the three stunned men.

+

Credence doesn’t want to be alone. Newt carries him to his bed and tries to lay him down, but Credence wraps his arms around Newt’s neck and refuses to let go.

“Come on, Credence, I have to house the nifflers, please let go,” Newt tries.

“No. Stay.”

“It’ll only take a bit,” Newt tries to reason and pushes Credence gently by the shoulders.

Credence is having none of it. He pulls Newt down, and Newt loses balance, falling on top of Credence. His elbow lands on Credence’s ribs and Credence winces in pain.

“Look, you’ve hurt yourself. Let go, promise I’ll be back and we’ll see what I can do about your injuries,” Newt says into Credence’s neck.

“Kiss me,” Credence says without really thinking.

“Pardon?”

“I’d,” Credence takes a deep breath, “I’d like you to kiss me,” he finishes with bright red cheeks. Thankfully the only lamp lit is the one in the hallway.

Newt lifts his head and Credence loosens his grip on Newt’s neck so he can lift himself better. Newt then looks at Credence for a way too long time before finally leaning down.

He presses his lips to Credence’s lightly. At first, Credence doesn’t respond, shocked that he actually did it, but then he slowly shifts his lips into a more comfortable position and moves his hands to cup Newt’s face. There’s a bit of blood on Newt’s lips, but Credence doesn’t mind. What he also doesn’t do is process the information of what’s happening. This is probably a dream.

Newt moves a hand to Credence’s neck as he straddles his waist, then pulls away for a second only to go right back in. Credence ruins the kiss by starting to smile like an idiot, and Newt pulls away.

“Sorry, I’m out of practice, and-“

“Shush,” Credence interrupts, and steals one more quick kiss. “Go to your nifflers, but be quick about it.”

Newt presses his lips to Credence’s cheek and climbs out the bed. Quickly, he opens his suit case and disappears inside it.

Credence smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so heres the second and final part of this, hope you liked!! 
> 
> and that hogwarts scene was so unnecessary idk where it came from and also i love pickett okay
> 
> oh and someone i gave this to read complained about it being written in american english so if any of you also noticed that, its because this fic is credence-centric and hes american so yeah i really hope you all liked it and thank you for reading


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